


What Came After...

by LLN3dseestheLight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Character Death, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Pandemics, Quarantine, Sheriff Stiles Stilinski, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Spoilers, Stiles Stilinski is Thomas (Maze Runner), Terminal Illnesses, WCKED
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:56:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24374641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LLN3dseestheLight/pseuds/LLN3dseestheLight
Summary: The end of Stiles world, when the end came, came by a virus, and not one that created zombies. Stiles would have preferred zombies. Those he knew how to fight. A disease? Not so much.Most of the survivors of the illness were under the age of twenty-five, though there were a few exceptions. The truce between Hunters and Supernaturals was in danger of being broken in Beacon Hills.How was Stiles suppose to keep the peace between, Hunter teenagers, Supernatural Teenagers and normal Human ones all who thought they knew everything?This is the story of the most famous Sheriff in Beacon Hills' history and the young man who loves him.
Relationships: Newt (Maze Runner)/Stiles Stilinski, Newt/Thomas (Maze Runner)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 48





	1. Prologue: Chapter One: What Was...

The beeping of the heart monitor was low and steady as it monitored the patient in the hospital bed. Stiles Stilinski sighed, leaning his head back against the chair he sat in next to the bed, as he stared up at the beige ceiling of the room. He reached for the remote control to the T.V. and turned it on. Not that Stiles was interested in actually watching anything, but it would at least be something besides the steady beat of the heart monitor. Something that should have reassuring in its sound, but Stiles knew that believing in it was a false hope.

“… ** _It has been five hundred and forty-two days since the quarantine of Beacon Hills began._** ** _Unknown to anyone, as a last resort, Tamora Monroe, ordered one of the fanatics in her hunter-army to release the bioengineered virus, before she was subdued by the Beacon Hills police. This virus was supposed to target only those with supernatural biology_** …” The female newscaster for Fox news reported.

The end of the world, or at least the end of Beacon Hills. For Stiles came not with atomic bombs, (but there were threats of the government bombing the town more than once in the last couple of years,) but with the reveal to the world that those various supernatural beings or creatures that he had come in contact with over the previous few years. Were in fact not things of myth or legend, but are real and living among the human population.

That didn’t cause the end of Stiles’ world. No, when the end came, it came by a _virus_ , and not one that created zombies. Stiles would have _preferred_ zombies. Those he knew how to fight. A disease? Not so much.

“… ** _The illness was called, the Hunter’s-Ease because it was supposed to make the job of killing the supernatural easier on the hunters who hunted them. No one knows who created it, or reason behind why Tamora Monroe had ordered it released into the Beacon Hills water supply_**.”

Tamora Monroe wanted the end to anything supernatural, what she didn’t count on was the human ability to adapt to a new and strange reality. That wasn’t to say everyone excepted the new reality that they found themselves in, but at the end of the day, most people realized that the Siren that had that great pool in their back yard? They just wanted to live their best life, just like them.

“… ** _It targets both Humans and Supernaturals, the virus is most dangerous those under the age of twelve and above the age of forty-five_** … ** _The Hunter’s-Ease turned out to be unstable, resulting in turning anyone who was in contact with the virus into cannibalistic savage beings. The mutation rapidly increased the mortality rate of uninfected humans._**

**_The virus had spread throughout Beacon Hills, quickly infecting the majority of the population. The rate of infection was skyrocketed to the point that the CSC stated a quarantine. In hopes of containing the illness, though, the virus quickly proved too much for the CSC to handle._ **

**_The earliest stage of the Hunter’s-Ease will often have infected individuals feel "off" somehow, exhibiting symptoms such as sudden mood swings, paranoia, poor balance, headaches that get worse as time goes on, irrational anger, and aggression. These symptoms last for approximately two to four months, but if individuals infected with the Flare is in constant stress, it can rapidly increase the infection rate of the brain._ **

**_These symptoms gradually worsen as the virus rapidly infects the cerebral cortex, resulting in suffering from dementia, temporarily memory-loss, and Alzheimer’s-like symptoms. The rapid decaying of the brain causes psychotic mental disorders to appear from the infected, stripping the victim of their humanity and turning them into a demented, cannibalistic, lunatic. The earliest stage of the Hunter’s-Ease starts with swelling blood vessels and angiitis-like symptoms. The infection gradually worsens with necrosis of the infected skin area_**.

 ** _As a result of the outbreak, WCKED was formed to find a cure for the dangerous disease, by a woman named Ava Paige_** …”

Stiles’ whole body flinched at the newscasters' mention of _that_ woman’s name.

“… ** _Had decided that human experimentation was the only way to find a cure and with the back of serval members of Beacon Hills elite put such actions into motion by kidnapping many young people, most of them under the age of twenty. These experiments were apprised of physical, medical, societal, and environmental scenarios to see the changes these things had in the test subjects’ brains_** …”

Stiles had been taken by WCKED. Much, Stiles was sure to Ava Paige’s regret, this was the one mistake she made, and with it, her whole operation came crashing down when the boy’s irate father, the Sheriff of Beacon Hills, John Stilinski found his son and the others taken.

“… ** _In the chaos of the fall of WCKED, Ava Paige was killed, and Michael Janson, second-in-command of WCKED disappeared, neither would stand trial for what they had done to the people they had experimented on._** ”

Once the drugs that WCKED had pumped into Stiles on the regular had worn off. And brainwashing and false memories broke down, the drugs worked their way out of Stiles’ system. And Stiles’ real memories returned, he found himself at a loss of what to do.

So, Stiles did what he did best and tried to ignore the problem until it went away.

It was around this time that Stiles noticed how the Hale Pack and McCall Pack had distanced themselves from him. Stiles couldn’t figure the reason why they were doing it. They were his friends, his family, right? It seemed the hard her tried to reconnect with them the harder they pushed Stiles away until Stiles finally gave up and ignored both packs. Though the Hale Pack wasn’t as bad as the McCall Pack. The members of the Hale Pack would still have friendly conversations with Stiles even as they made it clear, Stiles wasn’t a part of their pack. The McCall Pack just seemly refused to even speak to Stiles and would literally cross the street so they wouldn’t have to be near him.

Though, Stiles found it frustrating that both packs would still come to him for research when something was threatening Beacon Hills.

In turn, Stiles kept those he had suffered with by WCKED’s hands at arm’s length. Stiles couldn’t bare Thomas’s memories, couldn’t bear the fact that he had helped Ava Paige torture people he had come to think of as friends, like siblings. Stiles had the small wooden carving that Chuck had made, tucked in the back of a drawer in his desk at home. Sometimes, Stiles would see the boy he had known as Newt, in town, and the need to go talk to him was a physical ache in his chest.

Then, John Stilinski got sick.

John Stilinski had been ill for quite a while, hiding the symptoms from everyone he was able to do that because very assumed that his mood-swings and his loss of temper were due to his son being missing. John Stilinski laid in a hospital bed, Stiles by his side, he was able to give to talk to Stiles somewhat coherently due to the mix of medications that the doctors had found that would ease symptoms of Hunter’s-Ease but not cure it.

“… ** _the government is still in debates as to whether or not support the survivors of the Hunter’s Ease disease, with much needed medical and food supplies_** …”

That wasn’t a surprise to learn, the government had been debating that since Beacon Hills population began to drop once the disease came to light. Stiles shifted in his chair, the heart monitor coming back with its steady, beep, beep, beep, caused his eyes to well up with tears he refused to let fall. Stiles took in slow deep breaths, making it to the rhythm of the beeps until he lost himself to the lulling embrace of sleep and the hopefulness of his dreams.

“ _Stiles_ … _Son_?”

Stiles startled sharply, out of the light snooze he had fallen into by his father’s hospital bed, at the sound of his dad’s voice. He rubbed his eyes, trying to get them to focus, the beeping of the machines his father was hooked up to seemed much louder than they had a few moments before. Stiles looked at his father, the signs of the illness present for all to see, the veins in John Stilinski’s arms were thick, engorged and dark black in color on the older man’s face.

“Stiles?” John asked again, looking around the room.

“I’m here, dad. I’m right here.” Stiles said, taking his father’s hand in his own. John turned his head turns the sound of Stiles’ voice, and Stiles could see the black fluid of the disease had made its way into his father’s eyes. It wouldn’t be long now, Stiles knew, John Stilinski was in the last stages of the disease.

“Stiles,” John said, husky, his throat ravaged but the sores in his throat, black coated his saliva, as it ran down the corner of his mouth. “…it’s your turn now,” he choked out.

“Dad, don’t talk, rest,” Stiles coached.

John glared at him, hissing angrily, “This is important, Mieczyslaw, and you will _listen_!” Stiles nodded at his father, and that seemed to soothe the sick man’s temper, soften his gaze as he looked at Stiles, “…you have to protect them now, son.”

“Protect who?”

John shifted until he could grasp his son’s hand. Stiles was surprised to feel the chill of cold metal, he looked down to see the star-shaped, gold, badge in his hand. Stiles’ eyes flew up to meet his father’s once more,

“All of them, Stiles, you have to protect all of them,” John whispered weakly, closing his eyes. Stiles glanced down at the badge; his fingers tightened around it. The beeping of the heart monitor began to skip, beats, every two or three beats…


	2. Prologue: Chapter Two: What Was...

“… ** _And other news, John Stilinski, the Sheriff of Beacon Hills, past of complications of Hunter’s Ease, last Monday. Widowed, his wife, Claudia, died of Frontotemporal Dementia, ten years ago. Stilinski is survived by his son…M. Stilinski, best known for his actions in helping bring down WCKED two months ago_** …”

Stiles stared up at the ceiling. He’d been hearing the same rehash of his father’s passing for the past week by the same newscaster. Stiles idly wondered if what he was feeling was normal? He hadn’t shed a single tear when his father passed, nor at the funeral, nor in the last week. Stiles’ head hadn’t been filled with thoughts of grief. How was he going to survive without his father? How he was going to maintain a life in the unstable sphere that Beacon Hills had become during the quarantine. Things had been changing for a while. People had been scared but listened to the City Council…until members of the council began to die.

The children of the City Council had stepped up into their parent’s places. Stiles wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but it was easier since they didn’t have the time or resources for any sort of election. The few adults that had survived Hunter’s Ease had stepped into a mentorship sort of roll, trying to teach teenagers the skills they needed to run the town… Stiles wasn’t sure that was working, he was pretty sure it wasn’t.

Stiles didn’t even want to think of the chaos the Sheriff’s department was thrown into right now. He sighed heavily and turned over, pressing his face to the floor. How the hell were a bunch of teenagers, pre-teens, and a handful of adults supposed to keep living a normal life? The truth that they didn’t want to face was the fact they were not going too. Someone was going to have to take control of the situation soon. Stiles was worried about when that would happen because if it was the wrong person? The last thing Beacon Hills needed was a tyrant or a crazy hunter in-charge of the town.

“… ** _the City Council will be holding a meeting in three days to choose a new sheriff_** …”

Stiles glanced up at the T.V. glaring at it and, with a wave of his hand, turned it off. He had been learning to use more of his Spark abilities, ever since he lost control of them and brought down most of WCKED ‘s Tower, in a mindless rage. Deaton had been kind enough to give him a few books on the subject a couple years before, Stiles had just never seen the point to reading them because all he could use his Spark for was manipulating Mountain Ash.

Stiles dropped his head back down to the cold surface of the hardwood floor, he shut his eyes, falling into an almost doze, when he was startled by a harsh knocking on his front door. He frowned, he wasn’t the most popular person in Beacon Hills, so there sudden be anyone knocking on his door. Stiles heaved himself up and walked out of his living room and to the door, looking through the peep-hole he was surprised to see, Jordan Parrish, standing there looking worried. Stiles unlocked the door and opened it, he leaned against the door, narrowing his eyes as he said,

“What can I do for you, Deputy Parrish?”

“We need your help, Stilinski.”

Stiles scowled at him, “I’m not interested in helping whichever pack you finely decided to join…”

Parrish gave Stiles a confused look, then realizing who Stiles meant, said, “Not them. The Sheriff’s station. It’s starting, Stilinski.”

“What’s starting?”

“The breakdown of Civilization.”

“Dramatic much, Parrish?”

“Just come with me, Stiles?” Parrish asked.

Stiles looked over his shoulder at the empty house behind him then back at Parrish, “Am I gonna need my bat?”

Parrish started to shake his head, then stopped in mid-shake, “Might not hurt.”

***

The second that Stiles stepped into the Sheriff’s station, he could see what the problem was; a group of known hunter’s children was shoved into one corner of the room. A group of various supernatural teens was corralled in the other, with the few Sheriff’s deputies that had survived Hunter’s Ease were trying… and failing to keep order between the two groups. From the shouting that the two groups were doing at each other. Stiles summarized that the problem was that the group of Supernaturals had caught some of the hunters sniffing around their homes with ill intent and called the police. When the deputies showed up, one of the hunters had fired a shot at one of the Supernaturals. That caused the deputies to just arrest everyone at the scene, which had led to this…chaos.

“That is enough!” Stiles said, loudly, “I don’t know why you all seem to think this will help anything that is going on in our lives, but it ends right now!” Stiles was ignored by everyone in the room, and the shouting got louder, then one of the hunters lunged at a girl with dark-scarlet hair. Stiles had enough, he turned and grabbed the gun out of Parrish’s hip-holster, he flicked off the safety. Pointing at the ceiling, Stiles pulled the trigger. The sudden ‘ _bang_ ’ of it going off caused everyone in the room to hit the floor.

When another shot didn’t happen, slowly everyone in the room focused on Stiles. “That is enough,” Stiles repeated, handing Parrish back his gun. “You will let the deputies process you all without any more trouble.”

“Who are you to tell us what to do?” One of the teenagers, a boy with light brown hair, who by the way he was dress was one of the hunters. Would have been handsome if not for the sneer on his face, “Everyone knows that McCall dropped you. You’re just—” abruptly broke off, clutching at his throat. Stiles brought up his right hand, his pointer finger, and thumb, slowly making their way closer to each other, and as they did so, the teenage hunter gasped harder and harder for air, face turning red.

“I am in no mood to deal with petty-ass bullshit,” Stiles said slowly, clearly to everyone in the room. “And you all will do as you are told by the deputies in this building! The world may be crashing down around us, but that is no reason for you to break any of the laws!” Stiles dropped his hand, and the teen hunter fell to his knees, heaving for breath. Stiles gave him a cold look, “Do you understand me?”

“We understand,” the speaker paused, Stiles turned to see who spoke, it was the scarlet haired girl, she gave him a knowing smile. She had been one of the survivors of WCKED. Stiles didn’t know her real name, he had only known her as Hilly. Hilly’s gaze flitted from person to person in the bullpen of the Sheriff’s station. “We understand, _Sheriff_.”

Stiles didn’t bother to answer the girl but turned to the three deputies, “Get these idiots processed! Kept anyone who fired a weapon or seems…dangerous. Put them in the cells. Hunters and Supernaturals, we will sort them out later. Send the rest home with a warning.”

“What good will that do?” Tori Romeo, a cute, short, young woman of Spanish-Italian descent, he dark-brown eyes flashing with anger.

“It will let everyone know that even with the loss of Sheriff Stilinski, they are still doing their jobs to the best of their abilities,” Stiles said, flatly. “Get to work.” Stiles snapped when done of them moved, the deputies jumped at the order. Stiles looked over at Parrish, the Hellhound smirked at him, Stiles frowned and motioned to the Sheriff’ office. They walked into the office, and Parrish shut the door behind, Stiles, twirled around and pointed a finger and glared at the Hellhound.

“We need a sheriff, Stiles,” Parrish said softly, “and The City Council will be choosing the next sheriff soon.”

Stiles got a thoughtful expression on his face as he looked around his father’s office, “Then perhaps we should make sure they pick the right one.”

“And how are we going to do that?” Parrish asked, innocently.

Parrish didn’t fool Stiles one bit. The man had come to his house with that idea in his mind. Why Parrish thought Stiles would be the right candidate for the next Sheriff, Stiles had no idea. But the more Stiles thought about, the more the idea appealed to him.

“I can’t go before the City Council looking like this,” Stiles muttered to himself as he glanced down at the clothes he was wearing.

“I’m sure we can find a uniform for you…” Parrish said, a hint of a smile on his lips.

Stiles shook his head, “It’s going to take more than me playing dress-up in one of my father’s uniform to get me the position of Sheriff. And that’s how they would see it. Beacon Hills is different now, so should the Sheriff. How apposed would Lydia be to helping me come up with a new look?”


End file.
